She's Dead And She's Rotten
by Overweight Orange
Summary: It's time for Alice Kirkland to die. FemEngland. Oneshot.


Based on the life of serial killer Mary-Ann Cotton.

I had to change the rhyme a bit to make it fit.

Also excuse any spelling or grammer mistakes I didn't have any time to double check it.

* * *

_If you had the chance to change one thing, what would it be?_

That was the question that Alice Kirkland kept asking herself.

"What would it be?" She whispered to herself earning her a strange look from the guard who was sitting across from her.

"I mean, I could change the fact that I got caught. But it was going to happen eventually. I just wished I got the chance to kill that beautiful man who lived above the public house." She chuckled in glee, picturing his face in her mind.

His beautiful emerald eyes, the same shade as the jewels on Queen Victoria's many crowns. His smooth alabaster skin that never tanned, even in summer. Blonde hair the same color as golden hay. And those silly eyebrows that he was constantly teased for, but they added a certain... charm, to his already perfect image.

"Hey, you." Alice looked up to see the guard, who the others called Gil, kneeling in front of her small frail form.

"It's nearly time," He said softly but his crimson red eyes showed her what he really wanted to say.

_Get ready to die, bitch._

"Would you like to have your Last Rites read to you?"

Alice cocked her head to the side, like she was observing a strange and undiscovered animal. A small smile appeared on her face.

"We both know someone like me is going to hell. Why bother trying to cleanse my soul?"

The guard nodded and stood up to full height, which was probably over six foot from what she could tell, and returned to his chair.

Neither of them said a word after that. This made Alice become lost in her thoughts again.

Maybe I would change the verdict. Then I wouldn't be in this infernal rats nest in the first place. There would still be some suspicion, but I could always move again. Maybe to Liverpool. I hear that the men over there are very desperate for love. That is, if you believe everything Elizabeta tells you."

Alice said her name in disgust. There was something about the brown haired woman that rubbed her the wrong way. Maybe it was her constant flirting with other men while she was pregnant with her husbands child. Or that she made it her job to know everything about everyone.

"Look at me, I'm worse than her. Four husbands. A barrage of lovers. Lies. Deceit. Greed. Lust. I'm the incarnation of the deadly sins." She chuckled slightly which lead to a fit of maniacal laughter.

And the look on the guards face was hilarious! A mix of panic, horror and confusion. She had seen that face many times before. William, Charles, James. Right after they realized the bottle of arsenic in one hand and the knife in the other.

This brought on more memories of all her victims pitiful escape attempts. One even managed to get to the door before she had plunged a knife in between his shoulder blades.

Alfred, that was his was name. He was from the New World. Her first foreign kill. If you didn't count that French man who had moved to England when he was little.

Ah, yes.

When Alice first met him she had mistaken him for a girl. She didn't find out the truth till she had him tied up in the backroom of a public house and cut his clothes to shreds. The look on his face he woke up was priceless.

The influx of memories made her laugh harder till her stomach was hurting. She didn't even notice that a second guard came in till his hand made contact with her cheek.

Alice's hand flew up to cover the red skin and she looked at the newcomer.

"It's time. Put this on." The guard, who was slightly smaller than Gil, dropped an article of clothing in front of her and turned around. At least he had manners.

She rose shakily to her feet and slipped the very small nightdress she had on off her bony shoulders. She noticed that Gil hadn't turned around and was staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Pervert." She thought in disgust but she flashed him a quick smirk before putting on the clothes the other guard had given her.

It was almost identical to the robe she had been given when she first arrived. The only difference being the unmistakable smell of death on the fabric.

"Must be a bitch to get blood of this." She muttered wondering if you bled when your neck broke.

"Finished." She announced trying to smooth out the crinkles in the robe, as if people would be interested in what she wore when she died.

The guard turned around with a somber expression on his face. "Hands out in front of you" He ordered.

Alice thought about refusing him just for the fun of it but she didn't see the point in doing so. He tied her hands together with a length of coarse rope, it was probably the type used for mooring boats as it was extremely heavy and thick. The other guard walked behind her and unlocked the restraint on her left leg.

Each of the guards placed one hand on each shoulder and led Alice out of the cell. They guided her down the endless corridors of the prison, the only sound being the guards boots on the stone floor.

They stopped in front of a set of wooden doors. She knew it led to the courtyard. She could hear the voices of the spectators who came to witness her demise shouting and talking.

"Are you ready?" The guard who's name Alice didn't know asked.

"...Yes." Alice said hesitantly her throat tightening so she couldn't say anymore.

The truth was inside she was panicking. She didn't want to die. I mean, who does? She wanted to go home and curl up in front of the fire and look after her newborn baby.

But she couldn't. Because she didn't deserve it. She was a manipulative, psychotic murder. She didn't deserve a family. She didn't deserve to be happy.

She didn't deserve to live.

The guard nodded solemnly and Gil opened the door.

It was surprising to see how many people ere actually there. The entire yard was full to the brim.

A hushed silence descended as the guards led her to the spot where she would die. Alice kept her head down worried if she looked at someone her emotionless mask would crack and break. She couldn't let that happen. Everyone saw her as an heartless killer. And that was what she wanted to be remembered as.

As they approached the frame where the noose hung from she felt Gil's hand being removed from her shoulder. She didn't know where he went but her guess is that he went to stand by the lever which would lead to the end of her.

Her heart leapt into her throat as the unknown guard stopped walking and she felt the noose brush past her cheek.

"Head up." She heard him mumble and she did as told.

When she looked up she was slightly surprised to see his face so close to her's. Alice noted every feature on the young mans face.

She noticed how blue his eyes were. They looked exactly like the sky on a summer's day. His blond hair that was a few shades lighter than Alfred's. She also noticed the silent message his eyes were saying.

_I'm so sorry._

He placed the noose around her neck and asked softly, "Would you like the sack on your head?"

Alice nodded whimpering slightly when she felt the very rope that would end he life rub the sensitive skin on her neck.

He looked at Gil and he handed him a plain black sack.

"Can I ask you a question?" Alice asked quickly and quitely as the guard lifted the sack over her head.

The guard moved his head slightly and Alice took it as a nod.

"What's your name?"

A flicker of unease appeared in the guards eyes but the broken look in Alice's made him answer her.

"Matthias." He whispered before he covered Alice's face.

The sack surprisingly smelt of flowers which was rather comforting to Alice.

The worst part of being hung is the wait.

The wait was unbearable. Alice knew that her life could be over in a second. So when each one went past she expected it to be the next. Then the next. And then the one after that.

It was making her lose her mind.

And the silence. Oh... It was suffocating. It felt like she was stuck between two walls and they were closing in. She needed something. Anything. To remind her that she was not alone.

Then the crowd started to sing.

_Alice's like Miss Cotton, dead and rotten,_

The singing.

The infernal chant they sang at her trial.

_Lying in bed with her eyes wide open._

"Not this. Please, anything but this!"

_Sing, Sing what shall I sing?_

"Please, make it stop!" Alice whimpered a single tear slipping down her cheek.

_Alice Kirkland is tied up with string._

"Kill me. Please."

_Where? Where? She's up in the air,_

"Do it! Please! Get on with it! " She's sobbing now but the sounds are muffled by the black cloth.

_And there selling puddings a penny a pair._

The prison clock struck twelve and Alice Elizabeth Kirkland waited for the end.

**A/N**

**Snow days are the best aren't they? Wish we didn't have to go to school then get sent home though.**

**Has anyone seen the Spring trailer for Coronation Street? **


End file.
